Andrew's Reason
by jaguar-kally7
Summary: Another take on the ending of Jim's Folly by Raine Ishida (with her permission) - What lies did Andrew believe, and why does he return only now? COMPLETE
1. Trust

**Andrew's Reason**

**Foreword/Author's First Note:**

Firstly, as this is a fanfic, all characters, names, locations, and so forth that appeared in the movie Treasure Planet belong to Disney, and technically, Robert Louis Stevenson. The characters Ravenna Calls, Andrew Calls, Simon, Admiral LeighArc, and the name Micha Kendalyn* and the planet Capernaeuma belong to Raine Ishida, the author of the fanfic Jim's Folly. All others belong to me.

Consider this a fanfic of a fanfic, and the fanfic I speak of is, as mentioned, Jim's Folly by Raine Ishida, "a tale of love, drugs, and stardom." It has quite an interesting storyline and even more interesting characters; I suggest you read it before you continue with my story.

Jim's Folly inspired me to write this little tale - when the author took the story one way, my mind took it in another. Simon snatched Andrew out of Raven's life one day, believing that he was the seven-year-old boy's rightful guardian. How did it change Andrew? What lies did Simon tell? When will both resurface, and why?

The more I toyed with the idea, the more I wanted to write it down, and at the expense of my other fanfic. Yes, I took a break from what was supposed to be my first opus and wrote _Andrew's Reason_. Here it is.

*Micha Kendalyn was the name given to Raven's daughter in Jim's Folly, but she wasn't given a chance to fully develop into a character. Though I'll be using her name, I have designed her personality and background slightly differently.

** 1: Trust**

Andrew Calls looked up at the four-story building poised on the edge of the cliff. He stood at the foot of the path that led up to it, hesitating. Finally, after a long month of travel and preparation, he was looking up at the Benbow Inn... why was he suddenly unable to move?

He scowled. The last of Simon's money had gone into this, and he didn't have much of his own left. He didn't have enough to go all the way back to Capernaeuma to withdraw some more. He couldn't let any of it - money, time, or effort - go to waste. _I gotta do what I came here to do_, he thought, trying to steel his resolve. And he set up the path.

But the truth was that at that moment, Andrew Calls felt all of sixteen years old. As he trudged under the hot Montressor sun, thoughts of uncertainty entered his mind: _What if something goes wrong? What if I can't find him? What if I can't do it?_

He stopped at a rock under a shady yellow blossom tree and sighed, looking at the inn. It wasn't far now; he could see a little family enjoying breakfast - he could _hear_ how raucous they were at the table. He sat on the rock and buried his face in his hands, confused, trying not to recall all the times he'd wished he had a family like that...

"Hello," chirped a little voice above him. Startled, he searched the branches of the tree. There was a chorus of giggles, and a little impish creature swung out and hung upside down. Beside it, two bare feet dangled, and Andrew realized that there were two of them in the tree.

The owner of the dangling feet parted the branches and poked out its face. "What's _your_ name?" she asked.

Andrew was stunned. "A - Andrew," he stuttered.

The little upside down boy laughed and righted himself. "That's _my_ name, too!" he said.

"_My_ name's Micha!" said the girl. She giggled and stood upon the branch. "Guess what _I_ wanna be when I grow up!"

When Andrew didn't answer, she proclaimed, "I wanna be a spacer!" and leaped out of the tree. In horror, Andrew reached up and caught her. Instead of acting scared or relieved, she sat in his lap with an arm around his neck and continued, unperturbed. "Like Daddy! Then I'll go out and find our other brother..."

"His name's Andrew, too," said the little Andrew, dropping out of the tree. He scrambled onto the rock and sat next to big Andrew, smiling. "We'll both be spacers and get our own ships to find him. I bet I'll find him first. Then I'll make Mama _really_ happy!"

Andrew's brows furrowed, and he looked at the little girl in his lap. "How'd you know I'd catch you?" he asked quietly.

She smiled serenely at him and answered, "I trusted you."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "What does a squirt like you know about trust?"

Little Andrew tugged on his sleeve and piped up, "Daddy says that when you trust someone, you know they'll keep all your secrets and watch out for you. People you trust won't hurt you."

"And what if I couldn't be trusted? What if I wouldn've caught your sister?"

Micha shrugged. "I wouldn've jumped," she said simply.

"Well," Andrew said firmly, "you shouldn't trust people just like that. I don't trust anybody..."

Little Andrew stared up at him with big, solemn eyes... "You must have lived a sad life," he said softly.

Andrew started. "What makes you think that?" he asked.

Micha answered, "Mama says that when you don't trust anyone, you're a lonely, sad person with a lonely, sad life. You have to trust _somebody_."

Andrew gazed at her intently. "Who are you?" he whispered.

Micha took a deep breath and began rattling off in a singsong voice: "My name is Micha Kendalyn Hawkins and I am four years old. My brother's name is Andrew Aldebaran Hawkins. I also have a brother named Andrew Calls, but we don't know where he is. My father is James Pleiades Hawkins, Captain of the RLS Ravenna, and my mother is Ravenna C. Hawkins, owner and instructor of the Ravenna Calls Hawkins School of Dance. We live on the fourth floor of the Benbow Inn in Montressor. If I am telling you this now, then I am either lost or have been asked by a nosy old person." Then she added, "You're not a nosy old person, though. Daddy taught us that last part."

"It made Mama laugh, though," little Andrew said. "You wanna hear _me_ say it?"

Andrew shook his head. "That's okay... Just play. I'll watch you."

He wondered - How could he have missed it? Micha had someone else's face, but the long, dark, glossy mane was unmistakable. And little Andrew - spit and image! His tiny face had his mother's features; they even smiled the same way. It couldn't be... what were the truths in his past, and what were the lies? Seeing the twins, flesh and blood before him, contradicted everything he'd been told...

"Why are you here?" Micha asked. Andrew was pulled abruptly out of his thoughts, and he found the twins sitting on either side of him. Two pairs of eyes, one blue and one brown, were fixed on him in anticipation.

"Mama says everything has a reason," she continued. "Maybe _yours_ is to come play with us!"

Andrew smiled in spite of himself. "Don't you two have friends?"

"Yes," said little Andrew solemnly, "but they live far away and we can't go by ourselves."

Micha nodded. "The Dopplers are going to school at the Academy, so they don't come over anymore." Then she brightened. "You'll be our friend, won't you, Andrew? You'll stay in our home and play with us, won't you? That's your reason, isn't it?" Little Andrew nodded at him just as hopefully.

Andrew sighed and closed his eyes. "I have a reason," he said softly. _Can those eyes get any bigger?_ he added to himself.

Suddenly, there was a shocked outburst behind them.

"Andrew!"


	2. Welcome

**2: Welcome**

Andrew turned, startled. So did the little boy next to him.

"Andrew Aldebaran Hawkins, you put that down this instant!" cried an elderly woman. Immediately, something fell into Andrew's hair. And crawled.

Andrew leaped up and yelped, raking his head with his fingers. An insect scuttled onto his arm, was flung against the ground, and burrowed into the grass where it was to be seen no more. As Andrew gasped for breath, Micha laughed. Little Andrew, meanwhile, received a scolding.

The woman wagged a finger at the chiled. "I told you to put it down!"

"I did," whined the boy in reply.

The woman sighed. "Not on his hair, Andrew!"

The little boy scurried and hid behind Andrew's legs. "He's not mad," he answered defensively. Tugging at Andrew's coat, he hissed, "You're not mad, right? Right?"

Shaking her head, half-scolding, half-amused, the woman put her hands on her hips. "Micha, take your brother inside and aske B.E.N. for a snack." Obediently, Micha took her brother's hand and ran. Then she stopped and hurried back. She pulled at Andrew's fingers.

"You _will_ stay, right?" she whispered.

"Micha..." the woman said warningly. The little girl squealed and ran to catch up with her brother. Andrew laughed, and then the silky-haired twins disappeared into the inn. "Welcome to the Benbow," the woman said with a chuckle. "I'm the proprietor, Sarah Hawkins. I hope my grandkids haven't bothered you too much," she added.

Andrew smiled and shook his head. "They're okay," he replied, watching the door, as if the two would pop out again. He felt sort of dazed at that moment, but he dismissed it as the sun.

"Would you like a room?" Mrs. Hawkins asked, linking arms with him and leading him to the inn. She was warm but firm, and Andrew knew this was the kind of businessperson you couldn't easily refuse. He walked resolutely with her, but he said no.

"I'm just... here to see someone," he said vaguely.

Mrs. Hawkins gave him an odd look, and Andrew felt even dizzier. It had to be just the sun, or maybe he was just nervous... That had to be it. "You look tired," she said. "Why don't I give you a room? You obviously need rest." Andrew opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs. Hawkins smiled and said, "Free of charge. You look like a nice young man."

And Andrew soon found himeself swept into the bustling Benbow Inn and up the stairs to a small but well-furnished room. Mrs. Hawkins fluffed up the pillows and drew the curtains together. Smiling, she said that if he needed anything, she was downstairs. "I'll knock if your friend comes looking for you."

Andrew was about to say that there was a mistake; his "friend" didn't know he was coming... Silenced by the shutting of the door, Andrew sat down on the bed helplessly. Sleep overcame him almost immediately.

=*=

Andrew exhaled deeply and stepped into the house. He slammed the door out of habit, unconsciously, his mind had told him that any attention from Simon was good attention. But when there was no answering "How many times to I have to tell you not to slam the door?!", he shrugged and tossed the keys to his transport onto the rack in the foyer.

"Andrew," rasped a voice from nearby. _Here we go..._

Andrew sighed exasperatedly and tossed his bag onto the couch. He sat down and leaned back, putting a hand to his forehead. _Well,_ he thought, _It's official. I'm a juvenile delinquent..._ Kicked out of school for fighting in the streets... like hell he wanted to listen to Simon ragging on him now. He hadn'e even been there.

It came with more urgency and anger: _"Andrew!"_

"What?!" he answered, his hand cutting away from his temples sharply. He didn't need this. Not now... If only Alison were here...

"Over here," came the rasp, from the next room. "Help me..."

Andrew started. "Where are you?" he asked, looking around warily. Simon never asked for help. Not from anyone. "Simon?" he called out.

"In here," was the answer, from the study. Andrew slowly got up and made his way to the door.

He knocked. "Simon?"

When there was no reply, he pushed the door open. There was Simon, lying in a swelling pool of his own dark, red blood.

Andrew rushed to him and fell to his knees, propping his head up. Simon's eyes tried to focus on him, and he smiled weakly. "Welcome home," he said menacingly. Andrew, however, was stunned. "What happened?" he asked.

Simon blinked once, slowly. "What does it look like, moron?" Andrew winced. "I was shot. Stupid b****..." Andrew took more note of two gunshot wounds: one in the man's chest, and another in his side.

"Listen," Simon began.

"Who did this to you?" Andrew interrupted. "How did this happen?"

"Listen!" Simon hissed, grabbing Andrew's collar, pulling himself up and at the same time pulling Andrew down toward him. "I want you to do something for me, 'Drew." He coughed, and Andrew prayed he'd calm down.

"Anything, Simon," Andrew said. The man was probably delirious; they had to get into his transport and get to the hospital.

Simon was gasping, his eyes roving Andrew's face. He pulled harder, so his mouth was at Andrew's ear.

Anxious, Andrew said, "Yes?"

"Find Jim Hawkins, 'Drew..." he rasped, "and - "

"Yes? And what?" Simon held Andrew so forcefully that he knew he wasn't joking or crazy.

Before his grip on the shirt relaxed, before he sank back to the floor, Simon clutched at his son for the last time and said, "Kill the b******. He did this to you, to us. For me, 'Drew... _Kill him for me..._"

=*=

Andrew shot up in bed, clutching his side. His fingers instinctively went to the inside breast pocket and clutched at the heavy weight inside. He gasped for breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, grimacing. He could still feel the dying man's fingers in a grip at his throat...


	3. Memory

**3:Memory**

Andrew's first memory of Simon was of the man scooping him into his arms and running. At seven years old, Andrew had been so preoccupied with processing the Admiral's death and wondering how Mama's friend Jim Hawkins could have killed him. He didn't realize right away that he was being taken out of the Academy and later, off the planet.

"Jim's a nice man," he remembered saying.

And he remembered Simon answering, with worry and a slight, rising panic in his voice, "_Jim was a liar."_ And that was when he learned the truth...

Mama only pretended to like Jim. She was afraid, because Jim would kill her if he found out it was only pretend. He would kill him, Andrew, too... But Mama couldn't pretend anymore, so she asked the Admiral to protect Andrew, and keep him safe from Jim. And though it seemed impossible, though it contradicted all that Andrew's instincts told him, Jim got mad and shot the Admiral. Now he was looking for him and Mama, only Mama had called Simon to help...

"Stay here," Simon said, quickly putting Andrew in the carriage. "Don't get down for anyone. I'll go back for your mother."

But just as he turned to go back, just as Andrew turned to look, there was a huge KABOOM! - and Andrew found himself gaping at the blaze that had leaped up on one side of the Academy. Pandemonium ensued.

Simon dashed back to the carriage and, looking back only once, took the reins. "Move, go!" he yelped frantically to the steeds.

Andrew was troubled, and he looked back, as if hypnotized, at the raging fire. "Wha - What about Mama?"

Simon didn't look at him. He set the steeds at full gallop toward the spaceport, and Andrew continued to stare up at him for an answer... Finally, he said, softly, "She's dead, Andrew. Jim - Jim put a bomb in her office. She's dead."

Andrew's eyes widened. _It couldn't be. It just couldn't be..._ He screamed. "No! No, we have to go back! We have to see! I have to see, we have to go back!" Simon halted the carriage and didn't answer. He got out and lifted Andrew, kicking, screaming, bawling Andrew, out as well. Andrew felt helpless as he finally realized that he was to be taken far way. But if he could _just_ get back and tell for sure that his Mama was dead...

"Listen to me!" Simon said sharply, setting him down on his feet. Simon knelt down and held him by the shoulders. Andrew was silenced, but he was a bit afraid of Simon. Simon noticed, and his expression softened. He looked Andrew in teh eye sorrowfully. "I'm sorry I yelled at you Andrew," he said quietly. "But your mama is dead..." Andrew sobbed and shook his head, refusing to accept it, but Simon gave him a slight shake. "No, listen to me, look at me. Look at me, Andrew. She's dead. Jim killed her."

Sobbing, Andrew rushed forward and put his arms around Simon's neck. Simon folded his arms around him protectively, comfortingly, and whispered, "It's okay. I'll take care of you, Andrw. I'll take you where Jim can't get you, and I'll protect you." Andrew sniffled. _My Mama is dead..._ "Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like me to take care of you?" Andrew nodded, his head on Simon's shoulder. He was his only friend now...

Simon sighed approvingly and stood up, lifting Andrew as he did so. "Now," he said, "let's get on our ship and get out of here."

And at that moment, though it was pushed to the back of his consciousness as he grew older, Andrew felt a deep hatred and anger for Jim Hawkins...

=*=

Simon took him to a little planet called Takara, where he had a house in the capital city. It was a tiny, out-of-the-way planet that was considered a kind of pit stop for spacers. It was, therefore, the perfect place to hide.

Simon was one of the capital's richest men, though. Andrew could still remember getting lifted out of the carriage and looking fearfully up at the large building.

He remembered how Simon had prepared a room for him filled with all sorts of books and toys, the kind he used to long for but knew his Mama couldn't afford. At the time, he had been in mourning, and the toys were no comfort to him. But Simon was.

They played toegether and ate together, and at night Simon read him stories before bedtime. Simon took him everywhere and put him in a nice school, and Andrew was soon smiling again. He had more friends and a loving guardian, and he was safe. Soon, he even stopped calling for his Mama in the night, and started calling for Simon.

Then Simon met Toni, and there was less time for Andrew. There was even less when they married, and almost none when Jordan came along. Andrew found himself pushed aside to make way for a horrible, gold-digging woman that Simon strangely loved with all his heart and for a baby boy that came a little too soon after the wedding.

What hurt was that Andrew knew that Simon was _his_ father, too. How could he not, waking up in the morning and seeing his face in the mirror? How could he not, seeing the same face at the breakfast table laughing at something Toni said or Jordan did? The older he got, the more they looked alike, and the more people noticed. Why his mother never told him, why Simon never told him was a mystery. Simon sensed that Andrew knew, but they never talked about it.

Deep down, though, all that Andrew wanted was for Simon to come to him and say, "_Yes, Andrew. I'm your father._ I loved your mother, and she loved me, but certain things forced us apart. - " things like Jim Hawkins " - I was so glad when she called up, I was so glad to have her and you, _my son,_ back in my life..." The years passed, and it all remained a desire.

By the time Andrew was fourteen, the "family" had moved to Capernaeuma, where Simon was a much greater tycoon.

If they had been rich and powerful on Takara, they were even more so on Capernaeuma. Andrew went to the best schools, had the best clothes, his own transport - always the latest model - a large allowance, and his choice of any girl. And he went with his father to all sorts of dinners, socials, and parties, but Andrew knew it was just for show. His grades had dropped, and he caused trouble in and out of school - it was only his father's power that kept him in.

Out of respect of his mother, Andrew didn't drink, smoke, get high, or womanize, though he did meet a lot of girls. Instead, he spent his money learning to fight and betting himself in underground matches. When he was in the ring, staring down an opponent, Andrew felt in control. He became something of a lone wolf - no one could touch him because of his money, power, and fighting skills. When Andrew turned sixteen, he felt as much an orphan as he had when Simon had first taken him home.

There was, however, a brief period of solace. At one of his fights, he met a girl named Alison and found out that she was going out with one of the players. There was some mild flirting, and Andrew gamely bet on her boyfriend and lost all his day's winnings. But she was the last thing on his mind when he went to sleep and the first when he awoke.

Time passed, and they fell in love. Andrew stopped fighting for a while, and he got better in school. Alison found how nice he could truly be; one of Andrew's favorite memories of her was when she kissed him and said, "You're - different somehow. Kind of... softer, you know what I mean? I like this side of you better."

Looking into her eyes, Andrew blurted out, surprised at himself, "So do I..."

Andrew bravely took her to city hall sometime after that. "I'm standing by you," he remembered saying that day. "When I met other girls, I always had the feeling that I'd break up with them at the end of a week. But I fell for you because I always have the feeling that I can be with you _forever..._ And here we are."

But Alison's parents found out, and they had the marriage annulled. Alison transferred to a new school and was forbidden to see Andrew or even take his calls or letters. She was also forced to return his ring, and her father even caused more pain by pulling her out of Andrew's last kiss.

Andrew now wore both wedding bands - solid gold and still not good enough for her father - on a chain around his neck. He fell back into his old ways eventually became more sullen. He got worse in school and more violent in the matches; he earned a suspension in both areas. When he started a riot on campus, the school decided that it was the last straw.

Through it all, Simon had been in the office, or with Toni, or taking Jordan on trips that he used to take Andrew on. He didn't even show up on the day of his son's disciplinary hearing. Andrew had gone home afterward to find him dying.

_"Find Jim Hawkins, 'Drew... Kill him..."_

=*=

Andrew scowled at his reflection as he shut the memories away. Simon had somehow kept his love for his mother all those years. Watching Simon die, and reading the next moring about Toni's arrest, Andrew realized that Simon had been just as pained as he had been. Maybe he stopped spending time with his son because it only reminded him of his first love. Maybe he had married Toni thinking that he could move on, but Ravenna Calls had remained in his mind. Maybe he had nightmares like Andrew's, of that beautiful woman, screaming in pain as her office became an inferno, while someone laughed maniacally in the background...

Andrew reached into his coat and took out the gun. He was an excellent shot, and the more he thought, the more he knew he wouldn't fail. Perhaps his mother was alive after all, and living a ten-year-old lie, and Andrew was here for a rescue long overdue. But first, someone had to pay for all this pain.


	4. Fall

**4: Fall**

Andrew heard shouts outside and went to the window. A ship was pulling up the the Benbow's dock, and he could make out _RLS Ravenna_ on the side. Seizing his chance, Andrew opened the window and climbed out, pausing only momentarily. He still felt dizzy, but he knew it would go away. It had to.

He scaled the next two floors up to the roof and crouched low, pulling out the pistol. Deciding it wouldn't do, he was glad that Sarah Hawkins hadn't taken his rifle at the door. He pulled it from the sling on his back and took aim, just as a man in a tricorner hat appeared at the top of the gangplank.

There stood Jim Hawkins, with his hands clasped behind his back and a stupid grin on his face. He inhaled deeply and shouted something to his crew, and then he laugehd. Andrew took aim. _This was his moment._

There was a slam from the front door of the inn and a shriek. Andrew took the safety off and steadied himself. Jim Hawkins brightened and skipped down the gangplank. This forced Andrew to adjust, but just a bit. Hawkins knelt. _That's right,_ Andrew thought. _Kneel._

It happened in seconds. Out of nowhere, Micha appeared and rushed to Hawkins, arms outstretched. She shouted happily, "Daddy!", and he gathered her into his arms. At the same time, Andrew pulled the trigger.

In recoil, Andrew blacked out. The bullet made contact just as he slid from the roof.


	5. Fever

5: Fever

Andrew moaned softly and began to stir. Someone placed a cool cloth on his forehead, and Andrew slowly became aware that he was sweating but cushioned on all sides by incredible softness. _Am I alive?_ he thought vaguely. He felt dizzy and strange, and he seemed to hear a faint buzz around him. _What's going on? Where am I?_

"It's lucky you were in your room, Berkowitz," said a man. His voice came from the left of the foot of the bed, and to Andrew it sounded strangely familiar. If only his head would clear...

"Is not problem," answered a thickly-accented, rich, deep voice. "I simply see boy climb by window and look out. He falls, and I catch him." He spoke as if it were an ordinary thing, as if he had simply plucked a pencil from the floor. Andrew heard his voice from almost directly above him, to his left.

Andrew was fully conscious now, but his body still felt like lead. He kept his eyes closed and listened more closely. Perhaps then he'd figure out where he was.

"If I had known," said a woman. Andrew guessed that she was next to the deep-voiced man, Berkowitz. And this time, he recognized the voice -- it belonged to Sarah Hawkins. She continued. "If I had known, I would have taken his gun at the door. But there are so many young soldiers these days, and he seemed to be so good with the children," she said mournfully. "I tried to trust him."

"Oh, Mom," said Jim. Andrew swallowed. "It's not like I was really hurt."

Immediately, Sarah pounced on him. Another woman joined, and together they tittered and scolded till there was a smack, and Jim cried, "Ow!" Berkowitz laughed, but Andrew tensed. He wanted to open his eyes, just to a squint, just for a glimpse. But he sensed that it wasn't the time to be caught awake.

The room was silent. Then, her voice came. "Oh, Jim," she said. Andrew heard a rustle of clothes and then a choked sob. "I -- I can't believe he's here! But why? What's -- What's _he_ done to him? He looks so tired, Jim." Jim tried to hush her, but to no avail. "So young, but so tired...."

There were soft footfalls, and the door clicked open and then clicked closed. The sobbing was gone.

Andrwew found his eyes stinging, and he strained to keep them shut. Her voice hadn't changed. As soon as he'd heard it, her face flooded his memory: a dark-haired, perfect angel, with eyes as dark as the etherium, each with a single, twinkling star.... He was filled with a childlike longing to tumble out of bed and follow her, to slip his little hand into hers... _Mama...._

"I'll prepare another room for you, Mr. Berkowitz," said Sarah Hawkins. "Please accept the apologies of the Benbow Inn."

"Is not problem," answered Berkowitz. His tone, again, was easygoing. "Just let me repack things. I will find you in a moment."

Once again, the door clicked open and then clicked closed, and Berkowitz sighed. "She's gone." Andrew heard him move and open a cabinet on the other side of the room. "Is no use, Andrew. I knew you were awake from beginning."

Andrew's eyes flew open, and he could not help sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He groaned as his head throbbed, and he shielded his eyes from the light streaming in through the window. He blinked and searched the room frantically with his eyes.

"I believe Mrs. Hawkins took the gun," Berkowitz said promptly. He folded a shirt and laid in on his satchel, at the foot of the bed.

Andrew puzzled. Everything was fuzzy.... "Did -- Did I -- "

"Shoot anyone?" Berkowitz finished. Andrew took a good look at him. He was a tall, heavyset creature resembling some sort of oversize mole. He was completely bald and had thick, gray skin and a peach-colored face. He smiled, and Andrew raised an eyebrow. He felt too weak to attempt at any insult, much less attack.

Berkowitz nodded thoughtfully, pawing at a coat hung in the closet. "A funny thing, really...."

"What?" Andrew asked, peeling the wet cloth off his forehead.

Berkowitz shrugged and folded the coat as well. "Is just that," he said, "I could tell, looking up at you, that you are a excellent marksman. Had you not pulled to right, you would have killed Captain...."

"I pulled to the right?" Andrew asked. He wondered at this -- he never missed.

Berkowitz's lower lip went up in a sign of assent, and he blinked, inspecting his wardrobe. "Ah, yes," he answered softly. "You pulled to right as soon as you saw child." 

Andrew started. _Micha!_ Could he -- had he... He banched as he thought back to the late morning, when he listened to her chatter as she sat in his lap. He gave Berkowitz a questioning look._What happened to Micha?_

"Bullet grazed child's arm, went to Captain's shoulder," he answered, on cue. Andrew shivered and sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Berkowitz went away from the satchel and back to the cabinet silently. "One must wonder," he said after a while, "why you tried to kill Captain in first place...."

Andrew rocked himself a little. He felt so dizzy; the moment he stood up, he wanted to tumble back into the downy comfort of the bed. But suddenly, he had to get away from this room, from this man. He had nowhere to go, and he had no idea what to do next. At the moment, he simply needed to find a place to rest, to make sense of things without the buzzing in his head.

He staggered to the doorway and steadied himself at the posts, putting a hand to his temples and rubbing his eyes. He felt so dazed, and so tired.... "Where are you going?" asked a surprised Berkowitz. "You must rest. You are in no condition to move around."

The man lumbered over to him, but Andrew cut him off before he could begin. "Tell Sarah Hawkins that you won't be changing rooms," he said dully. And he stepped out and into the hall, making sure the door clicked closed behind him.


	6. Irony

6: Irony

Andrew had to think quickly. Regardless of the fact that he was slow, at any moment, Berkowitz was going to open the door and pull him back inside. Andrew glanced frantically around the hallway. There was a staircase at either end. Berkowitz had been in the room above his own. That meant that he was on the third floor. If he took the stairs on the right, he had another floor and then the exit, wher eSarah Hawkins or any of the Inn's staff might be waiting to stop him. The spiraling stairs on the left went up to the fourth floor, where Jim Hawkins lived. It was most definitely a dead end.

Andrew began to panic; he could hear Berkowitz moving inside the room. Then, he heard snatches of a conversation held as people came up the stairs to his right. His head and heart pounded mercilessly, and he gasped for breath. Sweating, he knew he had no choice. The footsteps and the voices grew gradually louder. Andrew ran up the spiral staircase.

Andrew found himself in a sort of living room. Or at least, it was a living room on one side. On the other, there was a little breakfast nook and a counter, stove, oven, and icebox. The staircase rose up between these areas, and directly in front of Andrew was a hallway with several doors on either side. Andrew stood still. This was where the Hawkins family lived.

The table showed the remains of a small snack consisting of little cookies and purp juice; there were crumbs all around and a small spill on the tabletop. Beside the spill was a soaked rag, which seemed to be what was left of someone's feeble attempt to clean up. On the walls and among the little figurines on the shelves were framed pictures of a small family at play and at work. Andrew stepped closer to a shelf behind the head of the table.

It held three frames, with the one in the center as the largest. This center frame had a picture of Jim and Ravenna looking adoringly at each other on their wedding day. Andrew started. That had been the word. Adoringly. Indeed, there was no trace of fear or sadness in either face -- only the bliss famed to be part of marriage and union. Their heads were together, and their eyes locked in a gaze of utmost love and desire, their smiles of perfect knowing and perfect faith in each other....

The picture to the left showed baby Micha and little Andrew crawling towards the camera. Micha had her hand raised, and she'd been looking not at the camera, but at the person holding it. Little Andrew was grinning, showing his first teeth. They were beautiful children. It was one of those timeless, beautiful pictures cherished by anyone and everyone....

The last picture was of himself at seven, outside the Academy, playing with a red ball. He vaguely recalled that Jim had taken that picture, in which his eyes shone with an innocence Andrew couldn't seem to find anymore. In fact, in the glass of the frame, his dark eyes were reflected with tears steadily pouring from their corners. The childish longing to burrow away, into safety and comfort, welled up again in his chest.

Someone sniffed, and Andrew turned. Micha was sitting there in the middle of the living room, playing quietly with her toys, tears streaming down her face. They stared at each other for a long time, while her fingers fiddled with a toy ship. Then she pointed to the bandage on her left arm and said simply, "I got shot."

Andrew watched her intently. "I'm very sorry that happened," he said. The both of them seemed startled at the sincerity in his voice, but Andrew knew he shouldn't have been.

"Where are your parents?" Andrew asked at last. He moved toward Micha, as if drawn by the little form sitting barefoot on the rug. She sniffed and wiped her tears on her arm, keeping the toy ship in her tiny fingers.

"In their room, talking," she answered.

Andrew stared. In one of the rooms of the very floor he stood on, two people he'd searched for were together: the one he had just tried to kill, and the other he had longed to find alive. His knees buckled, and before he knew it, he was lying on the floor, sobbing silently. Why did he have to deal with all of this? What were the truths in his past, and what were the lies? For the third time that day, he questioned everything he'd come to believe.

Andrew felt a light touch on his arm, and he opened his eyes. Micha had crept closer, so she was sitting in the curve of his body. She gazed at him intently; seeing someone much older and much bigger cry the way she had just done was so strange... "Where does it hurt?" she asked.

Andrew smiled in spite of everything, but he didn't answer. It hurt everywhere. He didn't want to look the little girl in the eye. He felt as fragile as she looked. _I grew up without a real daddy... I almost destroyed you and your family by trying to kill yours...._

He wept. The very weight of what Andrew could have done began to pull him into despair, but Micha held firm. "Don't worry," she said. "You'll get better. I got shot, and I feel better already." After a pause, she added, "Well, maybe not really. But Mama says that everything gets better in time."

"Mama taught us a lot of things, didn't she?" Andrew whispered, so softly that Micha hadn't heard. He was only half-conscious.

"Just sleep," she said. "I'll stay here and watch you. I'll play quietly, so I don't wake you up."

Andrew closed his eyes. "Yeah," whispered a little voice. "Go to sleep. Mama's right. We'll get better..." If he hadn't been so feverish, confused, and tired, Andrew would have recognized the voice as his own, the way it sounded when he was seven years old....

=*=

Ravenna Calls Hawkins stepped out of the bedroom, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath and said to herself, _Stop crying, Raven. You should be thankful that no one was seriously hurt..._ Jim was in the bathroom, adjusting his bandages. Stubborn; the doctor in the clinic downstairs had told him not to move them. She shook her head and turned to go to the living room where she'd left Micha. The other twin was napping in his room -- Andrew had slept through it all.

At the thought of her sleaping son, Raven couldn't help but tremble. There was another sleeping Andrew downstairs -- the one her second son had been named for. She stopped and bit her lip, leaning for support against the wall. After all these years, he was back. Her image of him remained unshattered, but now there was a new one, of a young man she barely recognized. It was Andrew, but it wasn't Andrew.

Raven gasped. Micha was still there, but she now sat calmly in the crook formed by the young man's body on the floor. Shafts of light from the window fell on the two. The irony of the scene struck Raven. Her daughter was leaning against the young man -- only a boy, really -- who had nearly killed her.

Raven studied his face. Though Andrew was taller and leaner, his resemblance to Simon was uncanny. _Are you indeed your father's son?_ she wondered. Part of her feared for Micha's life, and part of her ached to embrace the boy. _My son is in there somewhere...._

At that moment, Micha looked up, saw her, smiled calmly, and waved. At the same time, someone jerked at her skirt and asked, "Can I have a cookie?"

Raven picked him up and glanced at the untidy table. She sighed. "Andrew, darling, you just had a snack...."

Andrew yawned and rubbed his eyes. "But I want another one," he said sleepily. He blinked a few times and then noticed the sleeping form on the floor. "Andrew!" he exclaimed. Micha and Raven shushed him, but he wriggled out of his mother's arms. He scampered over and stooped, tilting his head to look into the bigger boy's face. Raven caught him when he lost his balance. If she hadn't been so afraid and worried, she would have thought the scene comical.

She held him in her lap as she now sat on the floor by Andrew's head. The little boy laughed and clapped his hands. "He stayed! My new friend stayed!" he said gleefully. He ignored his mother's attempts to quiet him and asked Micha, "Were you playing here while I sleeped?"

Micha shook her head. "He's just resting... Can I have another cookie, too?"

At that moment, Andrew began to stir....


	7. Ina

**7: _ Ina_**

_Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw,  
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni Nanay;  
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni Inang mahal -  
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan..._*

Micha scrambled out of the way as Andrew shifted his limbs. She scampered to Raven's lap and gave a soft childish giggle. Raven clutched her daughter to her side, her right hand around Micha's waist. Her left arm encircled little Andrew's. The three of them held their breath together as Raven wondered what to do next.

When nothing happened, Raven's arms relaxed a little, and her children let go. Andrew got on his stomach in front of the older boy's face and laid his hands flat on the floor, resting his chin on them. Sprawled out in this manner, he stared at the sleeping face for a while and then turned to his mother and asked, "When will he wake up?"

Raven began to feel helpless. "I don't know, darling. Just... just leave him alone." She didn't know _what_ to do. She certainly couldn't pick up this young man and put him into bed the way she used to; he looked big enough to tuck _her_ in. She couldn't call someone up from downstairs; it was against their own rules to allow non-members of the family up their staircase. Jim couldn't do it either, not with his new injury - and as Raven realized this, she winced, still looking at Andrew. She couldn't leave him sleeping on the floor, but it looked as if the last thing she wanted to do was the only thing she _could_ do. She gazed sadly at Andrew's face.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Raven turned to see Micha on the window seat behind her, swinging her legs to and fro. Raven's eyes took in the dirt, grass, and juice stains on the white dress that had been immaculate that morning, just right for Micha to wear when Daddy came home. Raven gave a mother's wry smile. "Mama," Micha asked, and little Andrew also looked at her, from his spot on the floor. "Is big Andrew your friend, too?"

Raven smiled sadly and felt tears spring once again into her eyes. As she stroked Micha's hair, memories slowly reappeared, and she saw a dark-haired little boy, running from the recesses of their tiny apartment toward her, arms outstretched, mouth and eyes smiling with glee. _"Mama!"_ he cried out joyfully. Raven couldn't help smiling at the memory, and she even laughed a little and wiped the corner of her eye. In her mind, she lifted the little boy up, and he wrapped his arms around her neck so she could kiss him. With that air of innocence Raven found unique to children, he asked, _"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"_

Raven looked up at Micha, and Andrew crept toward her. He put his head under her arm, and she felt his little body wiggle closer to her as he put his head in her lap. Raven looked at the sleeping form. It had been almost ten years, _and he still curled up the same way_.

"For a third of his life," she whispered, mostly to herself, "he was my only friend..."

From where he stood in the hall, Jim Hawkins spoke, "What's going on here?" His wife and children immediately shushed him. Raven gave him a reproaching look, and he winced. Jim smiled sheepishly, and then nodded thoughtfully, arms crossed as he watched the sleeping Andrew. Raven couldn't help glancing at the sling and bandages that seemed to swallow her husband's left arm. In the back of her mind, she was already scolding him for not going straight to the hospital. She bit her lip and looked weakly at him. "What are we going to do?"

Jim sighed and moved toward her, and soon Raven felt his comforting arm around her shoulders. She couldn't help but rest her head beneath his. Micha jumped down from the window seat and climbed into her father's lap, and he gave soft yelps like "Ow - Micha - ow - sweetie - ouch! Micha, sweetheart, watch out for Daddy's arm..." Raven couldn't help but smile ruefully at the funny look Jim gave her after Micha had settled. _I told you so...._

And it was in this way that the four of them sat, with the two adults both wondering what to do next, especially when Andrew awoke. The twins waited patiently for their parents to speak, simply contented to be held by Mama and Daddy while watching their new friend.... Of course, children can't be silent and still for long, and soon the two were moving again, and Jim was biting his lip to keep from shouting. He tried to shift Micha, but she stayed unmovable, and he gave Raven another resigned look.

"Mama," little Andrew was asking, "do you know why big Andrew's here?"

Jim and Raven exchanged looks. Micha piped up, "Yeah, Mama, why's Andrew here?"

Raven bit her lip, and Jim nodded, trying to think quickly. Then he looked at Micha and spoke truthfully, without smiling, but still speaking in that slow, almost lilting way adults often use when speaking to children. "Well, sweetheart, we don't really know why Andrew's here. We still have to talk to him." At this last sentence, he looked up at Raven and gave her a meaningful look. "When he wakes up."

The twins nodded. Then little Andrew asked, "Can we stay and talk to him too, when he wakes up?"

Jim opened his mouth, but Raven shook her head. "No, darling, just me and Daddy first. Maybe the two of you can talk to him later, when we're done."

Again, the twins nodded. They both took a last look at Andrew, who through this entire conversation had remained asleep. His breathing was deep and regular, and he didn't make a sound. Then, the two children got up, eliciting more cries from Jim, and scampered down the stairs in silent obedience to a silent command. Within moments, they returned, and Micha snatched her toy ship from the rug and then ran off again, but they both stopped at the top of the stairs and watched Andrew for a few moments. Then, without a word, they were gone.

=*=

Soon, Andrew felt the strange realization of a newly woken person that he had been asleep, and he groaned. He felt stiff from being on the floor, but his head was clearer. His eyes flew open as he remembered that he was on the forbidden fourth floor, and he sat up with a start. He searched the room for Micha, but she had gone.

Instead, light from the late afternoon sun poured in through the window behind his beautiful mother, casting an ethereal glow around her. She gave a tiny smile.

Andrew found that he could only stare. His mother hadn't changed at all. Ravenna Calls was older, but still in possession of an angelic face, framed by glossy, thick, dark hair that age hadn't yet touched; a face set with equally dark jewels with the unique light of dawn from beneath her brow.... His eyes filled with tears at the sight, a sight he'd believed he would never see again.

_"Andrew,"_ she said. Even her voiced seemed to float through him and settle into his core. _Ten years,_ he thought. _Ten years since I last heard her voice...._

She looked at him fearfully, unsure of what to do or say. Andrew was not aware that in his own eyes could be found a childlike plea for affirmation, assurance, and comfort. He felt a sharp guilt for what he had done and what he could have done, but he still believed that somehow, she would make everything "all better".... A lump rose in his throat and stuck like the words he didn't know how to push out. He fought to keep the tears from falling, and he bit his lower lip to keep from sobbing.

In the end, it was Raven who couldn't take it any longer, and she reached forward. But he was no longer a little boy she could hold safely in her lap but a tall, broad-shouldered young man, and he scrambled backward, out of her reach.

He didn't want her to see him like this - when he was little, he believed that his Mama could see into every corner of his being if he let her. He felt so vulnerable now, and he wanted to hold on to the last shreds of his defenses. He didn't want her to see how dark things had become inside him, because even he wasn't sure of who he was. She cried out, but he stood up and staggered backward into the railing above the staircase. Then he turned and ran down the stairs.

In the hall, he bumped into guests, staff, and even Sarah Hawkins herself, but he paid no mind to any of them or to his surroundings. He needed air. He needed to get out. He burst through the door and into the red sunshine, but he ran all the way down the path before stopping to catch his breath, resting his palms on his knees. Then he stood up and looked back at the Inn, wondering vaguely if his mother would come out. His _mother_...

Andrew's heart sank. All his plans had fallen through, and now he didn't know what to do. He bit his lip and decided to head for the inner city, where a shady little guest room was waiting for him; he'd planned to hide out there after -- after he killed Jim Hawkins. Yes, all his plans had fallen through. He swallowed and turned away from the inn.

It quickly became dark, and Andrew could see the crescent spaceport in the sky, reflecting a silvery gray light from the now-hidden Montressor sun. The streets were filled, not with the cheery vendors and good-natured, loud citizens of the daylight, but with their shady, wickedly grinning counterparts. They gathered on street corners and leered from dark alleys at him, but he paid them no mind. He was used to all sorts of people of all walks of life; he'd met them all, hurrying down similar streets in Capernæuma to a fight.

As he went in search of the house at the address on the stained slip of paper, Andrew couldn't help but think back to the moment in the little living room at the Benbow. His mother was probably crying now, in Jim's arms most likely, with Micha and little Andrew... they were the only ones she could really call her children now. She didn't deserve a son like him.

"You want something, kid?"

Andrew looked up suddenly and noticed the squat two-headed creature sitting on a filthy doorstep. He fumbled with the slip of paper and then said, "Uh, I'm looking for four-eighty-seven Lepton Street..." His voice trailed off, and he kept his head down. He knew his eyes were red, and he didn't want this creature to see. He rubbed them quickly and tried not to sniff.

"Well, you came to the right place," said the head on the left. It was missing an eye. "So, you want something?"

"I reserved a room this morning. Number 12."

The creature sighed. The head on the right answered, "Got bad news for you, kid. Thought you were dead by then, walking in these parts the way you were, so I gave Number 12 to someone else." Then it added, "You're smarter than you let on."

Andrew felt confident enough to look the creature in the eye(s), and he saw that their heads were pear-shaped and their necks were like noodles; their heads seemed to be like balloons that waved this way and that, simply tethered by strings. They were both blind. When he was little, this would have unnerved him, but he spoke to the innkeeper calmly, half-distracted by his own thoughts. "That's okay, I'm not really sleepy right now. Who is, really?" he added, waving a hand at some of the street people. "What I need right now... is a place to work out."

The innkeeper nodded both heads, which looked funny. "Turn left after turning right three blocks from here..."

Andrew only half-listened to the directions, but he managed to find his way. Every building, every street was dark, but he felt more at home here. No one cared about who you were; in this world, everyone else was trying to stay on their toes. If you could throw a punch or manage a cutlass, so much the better for you, and Andrew could do both. As long as you stayed out of each other's way, you wouldn't have to worry about ever having to use those skills. More chances were, though, that you would within 24 hours of setting foot in the inner city.

Once in the gym, Andrew sighted a more dimly-lit corner (if that was possible) with an unused punching bag. Over the years, working out had become a release - he could take out every bit of his anger and frustration on something that didn't hit back or get hurt. He tossed his coat on the floor and peeled of his shirt, dropping this on top of the coat. He adjusted his mitts, and then whispered, "Let's have at it then, Andrew."

_One. Two._ Simon had lied to him. His mother had not died, and Jim was not a lunatic. _One. Two._ Simon had kidnapped him. Kidnapped him, stolen him from a real family. B******. _One. Two..._ _Humanistic theory, Andrew..._ cooed a soft voice. _No matter how great his sin, a man cannot lose his value... _

_One. Two. _Simon was his father, and he missed him. Simon had taken care of him, after all - given him money, power, and education. _One. Two._ To Simon, his mother was the kidnapper and the thief, and he had simply taken him back. _One. Two._ And to make sure that it would be easier for him, Andrew, and that he wouldn't want to go home, Simon made sure that Andrew believed there was no other home left. _One. Two. _A bomb near her office was set off, so that he'd believe she was dead. It seemed so clear now...

_One. Two._ But his mother was not dead. She was alive, in love, and a mother again. _One. Two._ Jim, when Andrew thought about it, couldn't be a killer, not with such a goofy face... _One. Two. _Once again, it all boiled down to the fact that Simon had turned Andrew's life into one big lie... _One. Two. Three!_ Andrew finished off with a roundhouse kick, and then he stilled the swinging bag.

He wiped his forehead with his arm and then took his stance to begin again. Someone came up behind him and slid her hand on her shoulder and down to his chest, forcing his arms down. "Ooh, somebody's _strong_," she breathed. Andrew didn't even turn around, he simply waved her arm aside. But she grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled so he was forced to step backward. She glided in front of him, blocking his path. "What are these," she asked huskily, fingering the rings on the chain.

He pushed her aside and began punching the bag again. _One. Two._ "Wedding rings," he answered.

She tossed her violet hair - yes, it was violet - and asked, "Your mothers'?"

_One. Two. _"Mine."

A gurgling giggle escaped from her throat, and she leaned against the wall. Andrew wrinkled his nose. She smelled of alcohol and a different kind of smoke. "That's nice... Why don't you and I pretend that _I_ own the other ring, hmm?" She let her voice trail off.

_One. Two._ "No thanks," he answered coldly. His brow furrowed, and he swore under his breath. "I plan on giving it to someone less... " and he used a swear word in the violet-haired girl's dialect. She was silent, and then she stormed off. Andrew simply smirked and shook his head, and he vaguely thought that girls like her were usually more aggressive.

_One. Two._ He missed Alison, too. They'd been a bit... _young_ to get married, sure. But at the time, she'd been the surest thing in his life. Now nothing was sure anymore. _One. Two. _He'd enjoyed thoughts of buying a big house, far away from his father, and imagining her in it. And maybe filling it with children...

_One. Two._ He wondered what his mother was doing now. _One. Two._ He increased his tempo. _One. Two._ If only things were different. If only he could go back to the day Simon picked him up. _One. Two._ If he had struggled more, maybe he'd have gotten away. _One. Two._ Maybe then he could have run back to his mother, and found her safe. _One. Two._ Maybe then he'd be part of her new family. Jim would be his father. _One. Two. _The twins would be his little sister and little brother. _One. Two._ Maybe. Just maybe... _One. T - _

"Ow! S***!" He turned, and the violet-haired girl was smiling triumphantly, hands on her hips. Others in the gym were grinning wickedly as Andrew rubbed the small of his back. He took note of the brick on the floor and was silently thankful that the girl had little strength and a bad aim; she'd missed his spine, and the bruise wasn't going to be there for long.

He felt the blood rush to his head, and he clenched his fists even tighter. He took a step toward the girl when a shriek broke through to him.

"Help! Help me, Andrew, please! Help m - "

Andrew's blood ran cold as he saw someone's tiny feet flailing near the doorway. A large slug creature had in his grip a small, dark-haired boy. He cast Andrew a menacing smile, and then he disappeared. His own name escaped Andrew's throat in a fierce cry, and he started toward the doorway to follow.

***Author's Note:** _Ina_ means "mother" in Filipino. The phrase at the beginning of this chapter comes from a traditional Filipino lullaby and is translated thus: _I hope my days before will never fade, when I was a child in Mother's arms; I want to hear again beloved Mother's songs - songs of love while I was in the cradle._

In writing this chapter, I wanted to begin with a phrase that summed up what Andrew felt but could not find one that expressed what I wanted. They say that the native tongue among other tongues is dearest to your heart, and so I chose _Sa Ugoy ng Duyan_ (In the Cradle's Swing) because in my country, this song is sung in honor of mothers' love. I ask your forgiveness if I had you wondering at the start.


	8. Kuya

**8: _Kuya_**

Andrew ran out of the gym and into the street, and he frantically glanced around. Where had the slug gone? The streets were packed - as soon as the evening came, the night owls came with it, going to underground games, fixing up shady deals, disappearing into dingy motels with goodness-knows-who, peddling what you never saw in the day... For all of them, deep darkness is their morning; they make friends with the terrors of darkness. The characters Andrew had seen earlier were nothing compared to these folk. Some of them looked up at him, but he paid no mind.

He turned this way and that in the dimly blue-lit street, wondering where to go. Why had little Andrew been there in the first place? How had he gotten to the inner city? Then, Andrew blanched as he realized that he had been followed. But he was surprised that the little boy had gotten as far as the gym before getting... _kidnapped._ Oh, how life twisted so strangely for Andrew Calls. This, this must have been exactly how his mother had felt ten years ago.

He stepped on something sticky and smelly and grimaced, lifting his foot. Then he blinked. It was slug slime. He followed the trail with his eyes, jostling past other people to keep it in sight. Finally, he saw how it turned toward a less-crowded part of town, and he ran along it. 

The trail snaked into a dark, deserted building, and Andrew dashed up the stairs after it. He slipped on a puddle on the first landing but caught himself before his face plunged into the slime. Grimacing at the smell, he continued up and up and up... 

If anything happened to little Andrew, he knew he wouldn't be able to let the slug go. He wouldn't be forgive him, the damn creature. Worse, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. _I should have made sure nobody followed me. If anything happens to that kid, I swear - _

BANG! A bullet whizzed past his head. Andrew had turned just in time. Now, he stood straight in the doorway, stunned for a moment, the thick slimy line between his feet. He was just outside a room lit by the streetlamps outside. The windows were boarded up, and it was through the cracks that the light streamed stubbornly in. Andrew could just make out the large, pear-shaped, jelly-like body of the kidnapper as it wobbled in the shadows. 

Then, he glared at the slug as it backed away against the wall, a sticky arm around little Andrew's mouth. Tears streamed out of the little boy's eyes, and a high, steady whimpering came from his throat. He was trying to wriggle out of his captor's grip, but to no avail. 

"Put him down," Andrew said, fists balling tight. 

The slug gave him a wicked grin replied, "Why should I?" 

Andrew ignored the question; it had to be obvious. "Put him down _now_." 

"Or else what?" the slug countered. But Andrew was sure that his phlegm-loaded voice had quavered. He took a fighting stance. 

"Or else the jelly you're made of won't be held by that thick skin of yours anymore." 

The slug gave a dumb "Eh?" Little Andrew whined. 

Andrew stepped forward, fists still put up. "You'll be more of putty than you already are." 

The slug tried to slide backward, but he found that indeed, his back was against the wall. If Andrew could see his face, he'd find that it was beginning to contort with panic. But then the slug remembered his gun, and he cocked it and pointed it to little Andrew's head. "Take another step and he's gone."

Andrew's heart sank. He'd hoped that the slug would forget completely about the gun... The little boy gave another whine, louder this time. He couldn't risk it. "Open your hands," the slug said gruffly. "That's it... Now go back to the door." Andrew did as he was told, not turning his back.

Remembering that there had to be some kind of ransom involved, he called out, "What do you want for him?" Andrew knew that to crooks, everything was for sale.

The slug gave a rumbling, phlegm-y laugh, and Andrew felt deeply disgusted. "Depends, hotshot. Why do you want him? He your kid?"

"No... Someone else's," Andrew answered. Maybe he should have lied and said yes, but he and little Andrew looked nothing alike. He could hear the little boy sniffle in the dark. He had to think fast. He had some money in his pockets and in the hem of his pants. But there was more in his coat, and he groaned inwardly as he realized that he'd left it in the gym - knowing this city, there was no chance that he could go back and find it still there, by the punching bag in the corner.

"Well, then go get that someone else," the slug said, its silhouette waving the gun.

Andrew had to be stubborn. There was no time. If he left, the slug would leave too.

"I have 20,000 credits on me," he declared. "They're yours if you give him to me."

The slug laughed again. "No way, kid. I could get 30 on the underground." Andrew frowned. Once a child disappeared into any illegal market, he disappeared for good.

"I could give you twice as much. Give him to me now, and you get 20 grand plus 40 later."

The slug was quiet, and Andrew prayed, _Please, please make him say yes..._ To him, 60,000 credits wasn't even a month's allowance, and he used to make much more underground. But he knew that to the slug, it was big stuff.

"Ahh, it sounds good, kid. But how do I know you ain't jiving me?" Andrew remained silent. "Besides, I only talk to family."

_I only talk to family._ Andrew's heart thudded in his chest, and his head throbbed. He wished he could see little Andrew's face, he wished he could see his eyes. Everything suddenly seemed silent, and time seemed to slow down. _I only talk to family._

"I _ am _ family," he said quietly.

The slug sneered. "S'at so?" he asked.

"Yeah," Andrew said, a little more loudly this time. He tried to stop the tremble in his voice. "I'm his brother."

He thought he heard a tiny gasp in the room, and he gulped. His heart was racing. He knew that little Andrew would have a lot of questions once they got out... If they got out. But he couldn't imagine them yet; he had to focus on saving the little boy.

"Really..." began the slug. "Tell me, little boy. Is this guy your big brother?" Andrew's heart stopped a moment. _No... _It was over. It was all over for the both of them now.

But he saw that the slug had to relax his grip on the boy before he could answer. Before either of them in the dark room could open their mouths, Andrew cried, "Run, Andrew! Hurry, come to me!" And like the slippery, wriggling little boy he was, Andrew Hawkins scrambled out of the slug's grasp and ran toward him.

The slug, caught by surprise, fired into the air, and the little boy screamed. But he got on his stomach and began to crawl quickly to the doorway. He was so low that the slug couldn't reach him; it was an effort to bend at the waist. Soon, he was in the hall, scurrying toward Andrew, where he waited, crouching by the stairway.

Andrew scooped him up into his arms, and they ran. The slug was following, sliding steadily along, gathering speed and firing after them. The only thing that hindered him was turning at the corners; if it went too fast, it would lean too heavily on the railing and fall for sure. Adrenaline coursed through the boys' veins as they ran; the older one had to make sure that he kept hold of the younger, that he ran fast enough, that he ducked in time, and that he didn't fall in the process.

They were almost there; they were nearing the first landing when - "AH!"

Little Andrew screamed as he watched the older boy's face contort in pain as he slid on the bottom step, and they fell slowly, slowly, slowly, like a kite returning to the ground. He scrambled away, and he saw that like a kite-tail, blood was coming out of the bigger boy's side like a long, red, red ribbon. His face was hot and wet with tears, and he was bawling as he looked fearfully up at the slug.

The slug grinned menacingly as he slid toward him, and little Andrew cowered and buried his face in the bigger boy's chest in an effort to hide his face. Then, there was another yell and a CRASH! and when Andrew looked up, the slug had fallen through the railing. There was a heavy thud, and the creature was dead.

Andrew Hawkins cried and trembled, but he didn't make a sound except for sniffles in the dark. He felt that he was so lost and terribly alone. He didn't know where he was, he wanted to go home, and he wished that he had never followed big Andrew. But it was just that he wanted to know where his new friend was going, and if he was going to come back and maybe play some more and eat cookies and be pretend spacers and stay and - and -

He whined as he laid his head on the bigger boy's chest. His heart was still beating, and the little boy pressed his tiny hand over the wound. He closed his eyes as blood spurted out from in between his fingers; they were both helpless to help each other.

Then, warm and comforting, Andrew Calls's large hand covered the little boy's, and he whispered, "Hey... Hey, it's okay. It's okay..."

Little Andrew whimpered. Andrew tried to lift his head up, and he saw that he'd been shot all right. Perhaps a few of his ribs were broken, but the wound wasn't fatal... yet. If he didn't get to a hospital soon, he would die from the loss of blood. His heart sank as he remembered where he was and realized that this prospect, just like his vision, was getting dim. He closed his eyes as tears sprang into their corners. If he died now, they both would be goners. He tried to whisper something comforting to the little boy, though in his heart he knew it would all be over soon...

"Cry all you want, Andrew. I'm here for you..." _Though not for long, I guess..._

And the little boy sobbed and answered, "But you're - you're gonna die! I'll be all by myself!"

Andrew gave a feeble, rueful laugh. He could feel his strength seeping out of him through their fingers. "You're smarter than you look, Andrew... Just as smart as - as Mama..."

_Mama... _There was no hope of going home to her now. He'd been about to make up his mind and turn back; he'd have liked to have been part of that little family, to have been a big brother to the twins. He'd have liked to say sorry, and tell her that he loved her, and tell her that he still wanted to be her son...

"I wanna go home," whined the little boy. His tears streamed out steadily like tiny rivers in the darkness.

"Me too, squirt. Me too..."

He'd never see Alison again. He'd thought of waiting another year till they were both eighteen, and then her parents wouldn't be able to touch them. They would have built their own home, and she would be at the center: smiling, radiant, beautiful, and _his._

They were silent after that, except for tiny little sniffles, and Andrew stroked the little boy's head with his other hand. Then, softly, sadly, little Andrew asked, "_Are you really my brother?_"

Andrew Calls squeezed Andrew Hawkins's hand. "_Yup. Micha's too,_" he answered, just as softly, just as sadly.

"How come?"

Andrew sighed as the memory of his mother crying filled his mind. He tried to hold on to her as she faded... "We had the same Mama," he replied.

"How come she didn't keep you?" asked the little boy.

Andrew felt pained. "She wanted to. But a man took me away." How strange, to find Simon bleeding on the floor and be in the same position just one month later...

"Was he a bad man?"

Andrew bit his lip. "Not really. Just... sad. Very sad. And lonely..."

"Is that why you're here? _You came back?_"

Andrew tried not to cry out as he remembered - just this morning, he had been shooting to kill Jim Hawkins, this little boy's father. What could he say now?

"Is that why you came back, Andrew? To see Mama again? To be my big brother?" the little boy pressed.

"I - I don't know. I can't - say..." Andrew was suddenly filled with cool, like a trickling flood throughout his body - was it all in his mind? But it wouldn't be long...Andrew knew that he had done some terrible things in his life, and he wanted forgiveness. He wanted peace. _God, if it's all right with you, maybe you can give it to me..._

They were silent. "Andrew?" whispered the little boy. "Andrew?"

There was no reply. Little Andrew sobbed silently, and he looked at the big hand covering his, the hand that was slowly relaxing... "_I kinda wanted a big brother..._"

**Author's Note:**Once again, a Filipino chapter title; _kuya_ means "big brother". Also, there is a verse from the book of Job quoted somewhere here; see if you can find it. I won't say anything more - see you in the next chapter...


	9. Hope

**9: Hope**

Raven caught her breath that morning, looking out the window. It was a beautiful day. The sun was just beginning to peep from the horizon, and already the sky was unfolding in golden, rosy splendor. Light was spreading from the horizon toward her, throwing a glow like a net over everything in its path... How could such a morning come when Raven expected rain? Rain would match how she felt, how she had been feeling for the past week now...

"_Hey,_" Jim whispered, his mouth at her ear as he approached from behind. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her close. They were cheek-to-cheek, looking out the window. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

Raven sighed and bit her lip. "I wish I could say yes, Jim. But very few things seem beautiful these days..."

Jim grunted. "You can't say that, Ray. You can't."

"Why not?" she asked.

In answer, Jim unfolded his arm from her waist and picked up a little frame on the side table and held it up for both of them to see. He pressed the little button on the corner with his thumb, and instantly, the hologram came to life. Jim was lying on the couch, asleep, when Micha and Andrew popped out of nowhere and crept up on him. At the last moment, he sat up and surprised them, and he grabbed them round their middles and pulled them onto the sofa, where they sat together laughing and tickling each other.

"Now tell me that's not beautiful, Ray."

She gave a soft murmur and leaned against him. She had to smile. It was always wonderful when Jim was around. A simple whispered word, a meaningful look, the touch of his hand - they could all wipe her troubles away...

_Knock, knock._

_Creak._ "Um, Jimmy, Ray-Ray? Breakfast is ready, and I, just wanted to let you know, because breakfast as they say is the most important meal of the day, and I don't want you guys to miss out, 'cause I made scrambled eggs and everything, and - "

"I get the idea, B.E.N.," Jim said with a laugh. The clanking yellow droid grinned, and his LCD eyes flashed horizontal lines cheerily. "We'll be right out; just go on ahead. Don't let the twins use the stove again."

Raven sighed. Every morning, there were sweet moments like these when she and her family simply enjoyed each other's company. At the breakfast table, Jim, Micha, and Andrew would compete with their tall tales, and Raven would laugh or clap appreciatively every time. Then she would help them rush into their playclothes and watch, shaking her head in amusement as they dashed off. She'd go to the dancing school and work with her students. And if Jim were home from space, like he was now, they'd sit on their little window seat and whisper all those little nothings, that, when you think about it, can show everything...

But she hadn't been able to fully enjoy her family's company for a week now. She wondered if she'd been neglecting Jim, the twins, her students as much as she felt she was - but they did try their best to be cheerful. The twins, being so innocent, didn't seem to know how much it affected her, but they proved themselves, time and again, to be wise beyond their years. Jim did his best to support her, and she was grateful. But oh, this week... this week, Raven had been in a daze...

She had to be thankful, though, that some forces had brought Andrew back to her, even if those forces involved his guns. She had to be thankful that Jim was alive, that Andrew hadn't succeeded in his mission. She had to be thankful that this long-lost son of hers had some good in him after all; he did save his brother's life. She had to be thankful that Jim had come home; if the _Ravenna_ hadn't been tied up at the dock, the First Mate would never have seen both boys leave the inn. He wouldn't have tailed them. He wouldn't have doubled back to the Benbow, and they wouldn't have been able to rush to that abandoned building in the city...

Raven shut her eyes tight as she recalled the scene: _she'd thought they were both dead, lying there on the first landing._ All that blood, all the fear and tear streaks on her little boy's face, all the pain and sorrow etched into that of her now-grown son... But there had still been time, and there had still been hope, and Raven couldn't let go of that hope now.

"I'm going back to the hospital today," she whispered.

=*=

The carriage was ready. Raven pulled on her coat as she rushed down the stairs, and she hurriedly kissed Jim on the cheek. "Goodbye, Jim. Please take care of the twins for me."

Jim smiled and pulled her close, and she gratefully embraced him tightly. "Don't worry," he answered, "their Daddy's not letting them out of his sight."

Micha leaped up, and Raven caught her up to kiss her goodbye. Then she leaned to kiss Andrew, whom Jim was holding. "Bye, Mama," Micha said. Jim put Andrew down, took Micha from his wife, and set her down, too, all with his good arm. He grimaced at Raven. Then Micha added, "When will we get to see Big Andrew?"

Raven sighed. "Darling, he's still feeling bad today, okay? And he's still in his _deep sleep_," she answered in a low voice. "You'll have to wait till he's awake, okay?" _If he ever wakes..._

"Okay."

"Goodbye, Ray," Jim said, kissing her again. Raven breathed a goodbye and then turned for the door.

From where she had been watching, a young girl of sixteen with pale gold hair and dark blue eyes stood up. She had a fearful but determined look on her young face, but she stood to her full height and took her companion's hand. This companion was a seven-year-old boy with dark hair and eyes, and if anyone had taken a good look at him, they would have made a connection between him and the recent events immediately.

"Excuse me," the girl said, striding over to Raven at the door. Raven looked exasperated; the girl was blocking the way. But she wouldn't let her pass. "Are you about to visit Andrew Calls?"

Raven stopped and looked at the girl closely. Then she looked down at the little boy, who immediately stepped back and moved a little behind the girl. _He looked just like..._

"Yes. Yes, why?" Raven asked, wary. What did this girl want?

The girl took a deep breath, and said, "We came as soon as this came out," as she held up the rolled newspaper in her hands. The nameplate said _Capernæuma Weekly. _Raven's eyes widened as she saw the the front page. **_Tycoon's missing son a hero. _**The page had several pictures, and her eyes pored over them. One was of Andrew, her long-lost Andrew - it was obviously a yearbook picture, but he wasn't smiling. The second picture was of four people standing on the front steps of a huge mansion. Andrew was one of the four; he stood a bit apart from the others and stared defiantly into the camera. The other three shocked her: Simon himself and his new wife smiling, with their own son at Simon's side.

Raven sat down, taking the paper from the girl's hand. She never thought she'd see that face again. But here he was, staring up at her, still with that devious glint in his eye... _Simon._ She bit her lip and scanned the rest of the page, trying to push that unwanted face out of her mind. Somehow, _Capernæuma Weekly_ had managed to get her own family portrait, with Jim and the twins. There was an inset with a closeup on "Andrew Aldebaran Hawkins, age 4". Then Raven went through the article. It said that Andrew Calls had disappeared shortly after his father's murder and his stepmother's arrest. Then there were details about his rescue of the little boy, but there was still no information on his relation to the child...

Raven looked at the little boy clutching the girl's hand, and then she looked back at the picture of Simon's family. The boy in the picture and the boy in the entrance area of the Benbow were the same. Raven asked softly, "Who are you, and why are you here?"

He answered shyly, "I'm Jordan. Alison took me here to see Andrew."

Raven then looked up at the girl. "You're Alison?"

She nodded. "We hope we aren't bothering you," she began, "but we wanted to see him so much. Andy wasn't really that close to Jordan, but Jordan really looked up to him; they were still brothers, you know? And now that we know where he is..." A tear formed in the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away. She cast her eyes to the floor and took deep breaths.

"Sit down," Raven said softly. She was now even more dazed than she had been when Andrew had first come back. She watched Alison sit down across her, and she watched Jordan scramble onto the chair next to the girl.

"What about you," Raven asked. "Are you their sister?"

Alison wiped her eyes and gave a soft laugh. Then she bit her lip and averted her eyes. "_I'm his wife._"


	10. Awakening

**10: Awakening**

"The doctor _did_ say you might wake up today," said the nurse lightly. "You've been asleep for a long time..."

Andrew said nothing; he simply blinked several times and shielded his eyes from the sunlight with his right hand. He vaguely remembered what had happened the night before... _Had_ it been the night before? Just how long had he been out cold?

As his vision cleared, Andrew tried to sit up, and the nurse came to help him. "I think it was very brave of you, going after the little boy like that..." Andrew didn't reply, but he stared at his hands. He flexed his fingers slowly, extending them and then curling them in again. "The reporters have been trying to get in all day, but we simply can't let them in."

"Reporters?" Andrew asked.

The nurse laughed. "Honey, you're a tabloid's dream! Your father's the richest man on your planet, but he's killed - sorry - and you go missing... Then you turn up here on Montressor, quiet little Montressor, and save the life of a little boy who turns out to be your half-brother. Meanwhile, your mother's dodging all these reporters when she comes in to see you every day, and - "

"She comes in? Past the reporters?"

"Every day," the nurse confirmed, nodding with a smile.

Andrew stared at his hands again. He'd gone through seas of reporters before. _What do you think of this situation your father's going through now? **Did I say he was my father?** Well, you'd think it was obvious, wouldn't you? ...wouldn't you?_ _Young Master Calls, you've grown way past the point of denying anything... **I refuse to make any comment**. Where is your mother now, Master Calls? **What does that have to do with the Fraser-Wright merger?** Absolutely nothing, sir, I was just - **Our time is done then.**_

Simon had trained him to beat off the muckrakers as early as his twelfth year. But what did _his mother _go through, every day, just to see him? Andrew bit his lip as he imagined the reporters gabbing and grabbing, trying to get a word in... Did she stand tall and push her way through, fearful, but pushing through nonetheless? Or did she shrink and cast her eyes down, hiding half behind Jim, clutching his arm?

_Mrs. Hawkins, how did you meet Simon Fraser? How do you feel now that your son has returned? Why exactly did he return? We were told you were dead... Mrs. Hawkins, how do you feel, knowing the kinds of things your son was into? Why exactly did you and Mr. Fraser separate?_

If she hadn't changed, if his mother was still the same, Andrew knew that Ravenna Calls would be pained, with all these secrets and past hurts dragged up again, this time paraded before the galaxy. A lesser woman would be devastated; a lesser woman would hole up in her room, crying, or scream helplessly at the reporters. But his mother was not a lesser woman. What they said, what she heard - it would get to her. But she wouldn't let it show...

"_You're awake._"

Andrew looked up, and there she was, looking tired but relieved. The nurse had disappeared, and in her place were his mother and Jim. She smiled a bit, but she watched him intently as Jim helped her out of her coat. Jim cast him an encouraging grin, and then he sat down on the seat with the coats.

Andrew hadn't moved since the nurse came in, and he felt paralyzed now as his mother sat at the edge of his bed. He went back to staring at his hands. They were silent for such a long time. Andrew knew his mother wanted to say something, but she was wondering how to begin, and when... He felt the same way...

"Simon told me you were dead," he blurted out at last. "He said that Jim was mad at the two of you, so he killed the Admiral and then tried to kill you with that bomb..."

Raven bit her lip, and Andrew flinched when she reached out and touched his arm. But her hand stayed there, and he tried to let her soothe him... "Simon planted that bomb, darling. But until now, we don't know why... Perhaps - perhaps it was just for you to see, so that you'd believe his story." Andrew couldn't look at her. Instead, he looked at her hand on his arm, with her thumb rubbing back and forth, trying to relax him.

"But I looked for you. I did everything I could to find you. And Jim helped..." Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Jim blush slightly and rub the back of his neck, sheepish. "It wasn't enough, I guess... _I'm sorry._"

Andrew closed his eyes. He shut them tight, trying not to let the tears escape. He'd known that crying was inevitable, but he tried to fight it anyway. "I tried to kill you!" he said, addressing Jim. His voice rose. "I - I didn't know what I was doing, it was a dying man's _last wish_, for crying out loud! And I hated you! Jim Hawkins, I grew up hating you, because _you killed my mother_ _and I'd never see her again!_"

His voice went soft, and low. "But you were here, all along. And you loved each other." He sniffed and brought his hands away from his eyes, but he kept them downcast. "I was wrong. I was lied to. Do you know what that's like? Finding out that your life has been a lie? That everything you think to be true is a _lie_? That because of that lie, you could destroy another child's future - two children's futures - and that you could break... another family?"

Raven's eyes were red, and Jim had his eyes to the floor. Andrew continued. "I shouldn't even be here. I should've just gone back to Capernæuma, and gone back underground..."

"And what?" Raven asked suddenly. "And fall into drugs and girls and gangs? Alison already told us that after the breakup you'd started drinking... You would have died..."

"I've been there and back," Jim added softly.

But Andrew had started in the middle of her sentence. "You know about Alison?"

Raven smiled wryly. "She's here, too, Andy..." Andrew warmed slightly upon hearing his old nickname. Simon had called him Drew...

"She's here? But what did her parents say?"

Jim and Raven exchanged looks. Then Jim said, "They had a fight. They kicked her out, and she came straight here with Jordan. The two of them are in the waiting room now, with the twins."

"Can I see her? Why'd they fight?" Andrew asked quickly. Already his face was dry, and his eyes were wide with surprise.

Jim laughed, and Raven smiled. "In a moment," she said, "we'll send her in, and she can answer your questions."

Andrew smiled to himself and stared absently. He was still flexing his fingers...

_"I missed you,"_ he whispered at last. _"Every day, I wondered where you really were. And you can't count the times I hated myself for doing something that might break your heart."_

"Like what?" Raven asked.

Andrew shook his head. "The fighting, I guess. Plus I used some of my money to support a friend's... _habits_. Then - well, Alison told you - I got a habit of my own..."

"Well, I missed you too," his mother answered, shushing him. "And I don't want to hear another word from you about things you've done, Andrew Calls. That was then. This is now."

Andrew grinned and wiped his eyes again. He tried to sit up, but he was still weak, so Raven reached over and helped him.

And as they embraced, Andrew cried without shame. He'd been waiting for this. This was the ache in his chest being cured and the terrible nightmares being swept away. For years, he'd been searching for something that would fix everything, that would fill up the space created by the Academy bombing. He wanted a new life, a family, and a real home. Here it was.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Andrew grinned at Alison as he leaned back on the couch, watching her put the dishes away. "Damn, you're beautiful." She laughed and threw a large purp at him, and he caught it and checked for spots. Then he bit into it and continued to smile at her.

"I still can't see why your parents kicked you out," he said casually. "I mean, technically, we _were_ married when it happened. Could you blame me?"

She raised her eyebrows and smiled back. "Yes," she said, nodding, "I think I could."

He pulled a funny face and then shifted on the couch to make room for her, but not before Micha, little Andrew, and Jordan appeared and piled on top of him, squealing. He growled playfully and tried to fight them off as they crawled all over him, pulling and pushing him this way and that. "Hey - OW!"

"Andy's a monster, RUN!" shrieked Micha, and the three kids tumbled off him and scampered into the hall.

Andrew got to his feet and began to stomp after them, making his voice deep and loud. "Oh, I'm a monster, huh? I'm gonna get you, I'll find you and I'll squeeze your little brains till a slimy green ooze comes out, and I'll mix it with my purp juice and - Oh, hey Mom," he said, straightening up. He waved and grinned sheepishly as she shook her head in amusement. "What's up?"

"Andy, you're going to be late for work again..." she said in a warning tone. But her eyes couldn't hide her laughter.

He scowled. "I can't work, I'm having too much fun _here_, and - " CRASH! "Jordan Hawkins, that better not be my Avery December CDs!" He grinned at Raven. "'Scuse me, Mama," he said, and he disappeared into one of the rooms. Raven could now hear more shrieks and squeals of laughter from inside, and she rolled her eyes. Alison had the same expression on her face.

Raven sighed. "It's been a weird summer, hasn't it?" she asked. Alison nodded. She looked around her. There were more picture frames now, and an even bigger mess. But she had to smile, because she wouldn't trade it for anything else.

Andrew was having so much fun, being a kid again with the children and making up for lost time with her and Jim. He was a good son, even though he decided to keep the name of Calls. "You've got enough on your hands with only _one_ Andrew Hawkins," he'd said while tickling the twins. Though Raven had been a bit put out, Jim understood.

After recovering, Andrew had returned to Capernæuma to fix his papers and tie up his father's loose ends. In the end, he was richer than Jim and Raven and could have built a hundred sparkling new Benbow Inns, but it was all in a trust that he didn't care for at the moment. He proclaimed that he was too young to worry about it and even took up a job in Montressor. Andrew couldn't go back to school, not with the stuff on his records, but somehow Raven knew he was happier where he was: in a youth center, teaching kids self-defense.

Alison was still trying to fix things up with her parents. They were considerably more approachable now that Andrew was fixing _himself_ up, though. After the summer, she would return to Capernæuma to finish school and then return to Montressor for her wedding to Andrew Calls - with or without her parents. Raven knew that there was nothing she could do; they'd both be eighteen by then, and with more than one good reason to marry...

Jordan had joined the family when Toni had given him up. To Andrew's delight, it had been Jim's idea to adopt him, and Jordan seemed to be coming out of his shell. Raven had the feeling that even when Andrew had ignored the little boy or been mean to him, Jordan still looked up to him somehow. And he was turning out better every day, just like Andrew.

Micha and little Andrew _loved_ having a big brother around, because - "he fixes our toys and plays spacers and pirates with us, and he makes cookies and funny faces, and he knows how to sing the Wiggly Brubloo song." Apparently, they had more effect on Andrew than he did on them. Jim was especially glad Andrew was around - _someone_ had to be man of the house when he was in space.

It _was_ getting a little crowded, though; the three boys were in one room while Alison shared one with Micha. Raven couldn't remember how many vases had been broken and blamed on someone else, or how many funny-looking creatures turned up in jars or pockets. And everyone was so _stubborn_ sometimes.

But at night, when it was late and everyone else was asleep, she and Jim would check... and double-check the rooms. Each time, they were sound asleep. Always, each one of them had an expression of peace and contentment... including Andrew.

"Andrew Calls, you're going to be late for work!" she called again.

"I know!" he yelled back. The next moment, he popped out of the hall, hopping on one foot and pulling on his shoes. Raven tossed him a bag lunch, and he caught it in his mouth. He smiled and took it out with his hand as he kissed her goodbye, and then he kissed Alison, too. He yelled back into the hallway, "Don't touch my stuff, Micha, or I swear, you'll get a - yes, Mama, I know I'm late." He gave her another rascally grin, and she was filled with warmth to see him so happy. "Goodbye!" he said, "Bye, I love you!"

He stomped down the stairs and bounded down the halls, down two more staircases, and then out into the sunshine. Raven went to the window to watch him run down the path. A few months ago, she had been watching a similar sight: the sight of her tall, dark-haired, growing-up son Andrew running away, disappearing from her grasp.

She smiled. This time, she knew that he was coming back. He had a reason to.

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to Ms. Raine Ishida, without whom this fic would be possible. Thanks also to the reviewers - you may be few, but you are more than enough. : )

**_jaguar-kally7_**


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